Key Events in a Parents Life
by Too Voici
Summary: Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, and the birth of their child. Bless!
1. Acquiring A Child

The Birth

_I'm Just That Good at Titles_

-+-

My second attempt at Harry Potter fanfiction. I don't know how anyone does it – I can't seem to get the characters down. They change as I write them.

Thank you looking, anyhow. Sorry if I burnt out your eyes with the pain (O! the pain!)

voici.

-+-

The day Draco was born was the first time Narcissa had seen Lucius so out of control. He had his reasons, she supposed, it was the first time he had no influence over the events. He couldn't very well pay the baby him to come out faster, and childbirth was one of the few places magic was close to useless.

By a unanimous decision, he was going to be born in their bedroom. Neither wanted their first child to have to put up with other babies screeching at it as it tried to sleep, or be handled by a stranger. Those were the spoken reasons, although Narcissa had realised part of Lucius being insistent were based on the fear that half way through, he might be called 'On business', and he liked his wife to be somewhere familiar to her while he was away. Yes, the baby would be born, and the nanny would take up her duties there and then.

As it was actually happening, Lucius was patrolling the corridor outside, shirt sleeves rolled up, hair messily tied back. If one got close enough one saw the signs of too little sleep in the form of red veined eyes, and dark rings around his eyes, contrasting vividly with his pale skin. He looked as if his whole world were tumbling out of his grasps, which was, one supposes, what was happening.

Meanwhile, Narcissa was not focused on the task in hand. She felt rather guilty of this – weren't women usually supposed to spend their time giving birth screaming in agony? Narcissa could not stop thinking how, as soon as this baby popped out, she would have the bed burnt. She thought the amount of blood and gore there was, was a little excessive. Nobody had prepared her for it. Someone – a nurse, probably, had asked her if she wanted anything, looking a little worried, and became even more so when she replied 'A glass of Austrian Red would be _wonderful_.' Thinking about it, the wine had never come. Narcissa was a little put out.

The doctor opened the door to Lucius. "You can come in if you want, Mr Malfoy." He had said, rather nervously. The doctor was also thinking on how his training had not taught him how deal with nervous husbands. Lucius thought about comforting his wife during her birth, put one head around the corner, seen a sight that was, in his mind, Just Not Right, and declined the offer.

"Is she well?" He asked. Best to be blunt about these sorts of things.

"She just asked for a glass of red wine, Mr Malfoy."

Lucius smiled.

17 black coffees, 11 snide remarks, 4 muffled screams (not one from Narcissa), 2 worried glances and 1 hour later, he held a small bundle of baby, and she cradled that well earned glass of Austrian Red. Lucius counted his sons (he loved saying that) tiny fingers and toes, admiring their perfection. The usual comments were made about how he would look like his father, and how well Narcissa had done. So much for the nanny taking him straight away – Lucius refused to let anyone but he handle his son for the next fourteen hours, resulting in Narcissa having to literally prize the sleeping baby from her husbands hands.

"But what if something happens to him?" He asked, horrified. "He's so _small_ and _delicate._"

She took his arm, and spoke as if explaining to a child. "Lucius. He is not going break if you let me feed him."

He took a step back from her. "Darling, you don't understand! He might break!"

"…. He won't break." Firm and assertive. That was the way to go.

"Really?" Lucius asked, his eyes wide with fear.

"Really."

"Do you promise, Narcissa. _With your life." _ He said, his voice bordering on psychotic.

"Lucius, don't be ridiculous, why would I-" Once again, Narcissa couldn't help wondering why then made so many videos carefully explaining how to breath when birthing, but not one explaining how to comfort a over-protective first time father.

"Promise!" Lucius interrupted.

"Fine, fine, I promise with my life that our son will not break if you put him down."

"… Do you really promise?"

This was probably going to take more then a glass of Austrian Red to sort out, sighed Narcissa, going on to explain to her husband that the luke warm water in the bath had been run for her new son was not a 'trap, to cook my precious son like a lobster'.


	2. Gaining Teeth and Other Such Matters

Teething

_I can write a 15000 word essay on how love is a focal plot point in 'The Merchant of Venice' but cannot for the life of me think of a good title to my stories._

-+-

_O, Lucius, when ya' gonna learn, ya' crazy man! _

_I'm still trying to get Narcissa's character right in my own head, so if she's a bitter disappointment, don't throw yourself of a cliff just yet. I mean, if you want, I can't stop you, but don't go blaming me. I'll cry. _

-+-

Lucius was letting Draco play with his sterling silver pocket watch. He was at the teething age (Draco, not Lucius. Obviously.), and the priceless family heirloom was currently being gnawed on persistently by an angry 18 month old, but that was okay, because this pocket watch had helped Malfoy's through the ages cut their teeth. If they could do nothing else, the Malfoy's could cut teeth in _style._

When Draco bored of chewing the silver, he started crying, the long shrill tears of one who has a pain but not the vocabulary to voice it coherently. Lucius tutted at him, but picked him up and held him close against his shoulder, gently rubbing his back, which seemed to sooth the baby. "If you are to uphold the honour of our family, Draco, you must learn to channel your frustrations some other way."

"Yes, Draco. If you aren't a man by your second birthday your father and I shall be _quite_ disappointed in you." Narcissa said with a smile. Little Draco was now ferociously sucking on his fathers hair. He had taken to doing that lately. "Darling, he's doing it again."

Lucius carefully untangled his child from his hair and put him back in the cot to gurgle and salivate to himself. "I think that's enough bonding for today." He shuddered at his drooly hair. "Why does he only do it to me?"

"Your hair must taste delicious." Narcissa said, mainly to herself. There was no reasoning with a man whose hair had just been ruined.

Her husband magiced the last of his son's saliva away. "Do you think my hair must taste better then yours, darling?"

"It's probably not a case of it tasting _better_, per se" Narcissa mused. "More of a personal taste. I like aniseed, and you do not. Because I like aniseed does not make it better or worse. It is probably the same with hair."

Dismissing the idea, Lucius sat back down to watch Draco play with the pocket watch. Nothing fascinates a father more then the sight of his baby smiling at him. In this case, pretty much everything Draco did fascinated his father. The way he gurgled when Lucius said anything to him, the way he would grab his father's fingers and go to sleep, tiny fists curled around Lucius's thumb. Narcissa would often say that put the two in a room together and you could bring the house down on to their heads and still the only thing they would notice would be each other. "How does he do it?" Lucius asked.

"Do what?" Said Narcissa.

Lucius rolled his eyes and pointed at Draco. "He knows that if bites on a certain part of the watch, it springs open. _Look._"

The watch was snapped shut, and then passed back to the baby, and it was proved that he did indeed now how to open it, revealing the ticking clock inside.

"He's a baby, Lucius, not a doll. He _can_ learn things."

"I don't think you really understand, Cissy. He knows how to _open a pocket watch._" Lucius said.

"Well?" Asked Narcissa. She knew what was coming. They had had this conversation when Draco had learnt to open his mouth to a spoon, wave when someone said goodbye, and clap.

"Our son is a _genius._"

Yes. Yes, of course, our son is genius. That is why yesterday he walked into a wall because he forgot it was there, Narcissa wanted to say. Instead, because she did love her husband, despite his occasional moment of absurdities, she said "I know. He is simply following in a long like of intelligent Malfoys." And she smiled again as Draco reached out to grab at his fathers hair again. It was just so _swishy_.


End file.
